This week’s, perhaps this year’s, winner for the “head-up-your-butt” award is (drum roll, please): the State of Oregon. The evidence to support this distinction is, simply put, overwhelming.
To wit, I received a check in the mail last Wednesday. My dubiously-named “kicker” (tax-refund) arrived because, as you may or may not know, Oregon’s state constitution requires that when there is at least a two percent difference between the final revenue forecast for the biennium and the actual end of the biennium revenue, the surplus must be returned to the taxpayers.
Yes, that’s right, when there’s a difference between the forecast (the amount of revenue that is predicted; calculated in an entirely suspect and error-prone process) and actual revenue, taxpayers get rewarded. They call the refund a “kicker.”
Like a kick in the head, I guess.
This stupid, stupid, insanely-stupid law (!), the only one of its kind in the nation, was created in 1979 and added to the constitution in 2000. And 2007 is now the eighth time Oregonians have received their precious “kicker.” This year, on August 31, when the final revenue forecast was released, there was determined to be a $1.071 billion (yes, billion with a “b”) budget surplus. So, back it all goes to the citizens: to each of us who paid Oregon income tax for 2006, we receive 18.62% of it back.
This means 1.6 million Oregonians will receive checks just as the holidays arrive, with refunds averaging $600. My check, which appeared entirely unexpectedly (since I’ve not been following the news up there), came to $1,066.34.
Huge. Sigh.
Now, don’t get me wrong…really, I’m not totally nuts. I reluctantly admit that I’m going to be cashing it. The deal is, I didn’t want this friggin’ thing in the first place!
I’m embarrassed for you, Oregon. For your lack of foresight and practicality. For your fiscally-irresponsible and tax-averse ways. For the selfishness and self-centeredness of your citizens.
This law, and this behavior, are a disgrace. You can do better.
Update on December 19, 2007:
Here’s something interesting: an article in today’s (December 18, 2007) Oregonian starts out…
A new group, the Revenue Restructuring Task Force, has been charged by the Legislature with studying Oregon’s tax system and submitting recommended policy changes to the 2009 Legislature.
The task force is the result of a bipartisan bill because many of us believe Oregon has the nation’s worst tax structure. And a few of us are convinced that if we don’t have the courage to radically change it soon, Oregon will be forever relegated to economic mediocrity.
Is it acceptable for a sixty-year-old like me to label another person “elderly?”
I wonder…
Anyway, whatever possessed me to make a trip to the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon, I’ll never know. But that’s what I did. I traveled over to San Rafael late today to pick up a few things from Trader Joe’s. It was very, very busy — and it took about 15 minutes to check out of the “express lane.”
Then, after I got back out into the parking lot, I started the car and proceeded to wait and wait just to back out of my spot. The traffic surrounding the store was totally ridiculous!
While looking in my rear view mirror to watch for an opening, I noticed an “elderly” guy (80ish, I’m guessing) exit a vehicle across the way. After he got out of his car, I could see that he glanced my way. Then it seemed as if he was staring at something in my direction.
It turned out he was. When there was a little break, and a car stopped for him so that he could safely cross, he walked directly over to me and tapped on the window.
When I rolled it down a notch (he looked harmless enough, but I was still suspicious of his motives), he immediately asked, “are you a Beaver?”
This is a rather strange question, of course. And, for many of you out there, I’m sure it could be a tad offensive. But, for me, given that I have an “Oregon StateBeavers” license-plate frame and a “Member, OSU Alumni Association” sticker on the rear of my car, the inquiry was a pleasant surprise.
“Yes I am,” I answered. “I have two degrees from OSU and lived in Corvallis for twenty years.”
One of my best friends in the Oregon University System (OUS) has passed on. I knew Martha Anne Dow from the time I joined the OUS Chancellor’s Office staff in 1995. At that point she was the Provost and Vice President for Academic Affairs at the Oregon Institute of Technology (OIT) in Klamath Falls. When the incumbent president retired in 1998, Martha Anne was the natural and logical choice to take over the OIT reigns.
I was a huge fan and supporter of hers, as I found her to be one of the most decent individuals I had ever encountered in a higher education leadership role. Similarly, I knew her to be a true-blue fan and supporter of mine. I don’t have an actual count of how many times she was contacted during the last three and half years of my job-search process, but it was several. At one point a prospective employer disclosed, after doing reference-check phone calls on me, “whatever you do, don’t take Martha Anne off your reference list!”
Martha Anne, I’ll miss you. You left us way too soon.
PORTLAND, September 29, 2007 – Oregon University System chancellor, George Pernsteiner, announced with sadness this evening the passing of Dr. Martha Anne Dow, president of the Oregon Institute of Technology, who died today after a six-month battle with breast cancer. President of OIT since 1998, Dow is widely recognized for her leadership in advancing the mission of Oregon Tech and her passion for expanding access to higher education for Oregonians.
Governor Ted Kulongoski said, “Dr. Dow’s dedication to raising the aspirations of Oregon students to attend college reflected her unwavering belief in every person’s ability to grow, learn, and give back to their communities. She will remain for us always a heroine of educational advancement and a true Oregon treasure.”
Henry Lorenzen, president of the State Board of Higher Education, said, “Martha Anne was not only a highly talented and innovative educator, she was also an incredibly kind, thoughtful and genuine friend and colleague for all of us who had the honor of working with her. Our hearts are breaking for her family, friends, and for ourselves. Martha Anne has left an indelible mark on OIT, Klamath Falls, the state, and on the thousands of students she has taught, mentored and guided to a college degree in Oregon.”
Martha Anne Dow became the fifth president of OIT in May 1998, after serving there for six years as Provost and Vice President for Academic Affairs. Enrollment at Oregon Tech grew by almost 1,000 students during her tenure, and programs in engineering, computer science, applied health fields and geothermal power grew to meet regional and state needs. Dr. Dow worked tirelessly during the 2007 legislative session and previous sessions to gain new programs and support services for students, and to expand programs to meet current and anticipated workforce needs. Earlier this month, OIT’s new Center for Health Professions was named after Dr. Dow at the request of the major donors to the Center, Dick and Nancy Wendt.
What if I had been born with more imagination, talent, artistic ability or intellectual capacity than was granted to me? What if I’d grown up to have more wisdom than is mine?
What if I had more depth as a human being?
What if I hadn’t been born working-class in the Midwest but rather to wealth in mid-town Manhattan? Or to college professors in Berkeley?
What if I’d not been so slight in stature that I was typically the last kid picked for a team? What if I were tall and strong, with perfect teeth and an infectious, extraverted personality? What if I’d had charismatic good looks in this life?
What if I’d lived one of the great love stories? How would my life be different if I’d found my soulmate early in life and had a loving, devoted partner by my side through all my struggles?
What if I’d not had to cope with chronic pain for most of my life?
What would my life be like today if even one of these things had been different?
These are thoughts I have on occasion. Typically, I’ll go down this path when I’m feeling a little sorry for myself or things are just generally not going well. That’s not really the case at this moment, though, because what currently brings on such mental meanderings is that I’m wondering how it is that I ended up here. After 37 years an Oregonian, here I am, all of a sudden, a Californian.
I guess the most terrible thing that’s going on right now is that I’m missing “home.”
I was on the phone yesterday with a friend who was, herself, 19 years an Oregonian — and has just moved to Pennsylvania to take on a new job. At the other end of the line I heard her teenage daughter come into the room and ask who she was talking to, to which she replied, “my friend Jim, in California.”
Jim. In California.
How weird to hear those words.
How could this possibly be?
Earlier this year I was a finalist for a position that would have landed me in one of my favorite little college towns on the planet: Corvallis, Oregon. From the moment I discovered the announcement, I pictured myself there, living back in Corvallis: my home for a full twenty years (1970-90).
What if I’d gotten that job?
I guess in a parallel universe, I wowed them at the interview and ended up there. But in this version of reality, I experienced another outcome: needing to move on from the rejection and continue with the interviews. I subsequently traveled to places like Burlington, Vermont; Palm Desert, California; Vancouver, Washington; and Kentfield, California…ending up with the job offer that landed me in my current location.
So here I am: now a Bay Area Golden Stater…wondering what life has in store for me in this place…and having an ache in my heart for a land I call home.
I was an Oregonian for 32 years, and I know that residents of that state have a longstanding reputation for being independent: for subscribing to the philosophy of rugged individualism, or doing things “ the Oregon Way,” if you will. The Oregon State Motto of “She Flies With Her Own Wings,” seems to reflect the state’s citizens willingness to boldly go where no man has gone before. In 1999 the state adopted as its advertising slogan (and unofficial state motto), the phrase, “Oregon. Things Look Different Here.” Although that saying was replaced, in 2003, by a new unofficial slogan “Oregon. We Love Dreamers,” it’s the “things look different here” mantra that is running through my mind a lot these days.
For now, I’ve moved away from my adoptive state of Oregon, am currently a Californian, and, well, things are different here.
For example, take the matter of registering a vehicle with the state in order to be issued California license plates.
As you know, I purchased a new Subaru before leaving Oregon. I was living and working in Oregon at the time: ergo, I was a resident there when I purchased the vehicle. Of course, that means I paid no sales tax on the purchase because Oregon does not have such a tax. But, what happens when an individual takes a new sales-tax-free vehicle to California, is that he or she is assessed a “use tax” when registering the vehicle. This fee is in the amount of the applicable California sales tax. (Any sales tax already paid in another state may be credited against the California use tax. Most states have a sales tax. The way I look at it, this seems strictly a way to “get” Oregonians when they move here.) Yesterday I went to the DMV to register my car, and the check I wrote out to get my first set of plates came to $2,334! …and the funny thing is (ha ha), I didn’t even get the actual plates. My official Oregon registration document has not come in the mail yet, so I was unable to surrender it. The best California could do was to give me a temporary registration sticker for my window. So, this is what I got for my money:
California , you really know how to welcome a guy.
Not!
The driver’s license part of the DMV visit was quite an experience as well. Here, a stone’s throw from the Silicon Valley, the high-tech Mecca of the world, they still give paper and pencil tests! I was handed a sheet of paper, 18 questions on each side, and was directed to a testing area where I could mark in little boxes for the multiple-choice exam. Then, after I handed it in, the counter attendant graded it by hand. (Yes, I passed. One wrong. 35/36 = 97%. Obviously, knowing me, you can bet that I was shooting for a perfect score. Sigh…) It was 17 years ago this month, July 1990, when I moved to Indiana and sought to be a licensed driver there. Even back then, at the DMV office in backwater Bloomington, Indiana, I was directed to a kiosk to take a test in a completely automated process.
And, finally, in a stunning conclusion to my visit, even though I had shown my birth certificate, been fingerprinted, had my picture taken, and passed the test, I was given just one little slip of paper to carry around that is now my temporary permit. I asked, “I don’t get my license right now?” To which the reply was, “No. You’re in California. Things are different here. (He actually said that!) You get your license in the mail in about 2 weeks. Maybe 4 or 5. Have a good day.”
Oh, California. Thanks so much for your hospitality. I’m sure feeling good about this.
Finally, as I’m on this stream of how much I’m loving my new state, I’ll let the photo tell the story. Here’s my new office space…
Bottom line? My jaw is perpetually dropping as I continue to find out the way things are done here. Someday, the newness of this will all wear off, I’m sure. I’ll be “settled.” I will have been completely socialized to this part of the country: not only the state of California, but Marin County, California. Until then, I’m going to be walking around feeling, invariably, like a Martian.
